


Bad Romance (I Don't Wanna Be Friends)

by xcaellachx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drag Queens, Everyone Is Alive, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Sexy Stiles Stilinski, Sexy Times, Song Lyrics, Steter - Freeform, Stiles Stilinski Sings, The Jungle (Teen Wolf)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23458411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcaellachx/pseuds/xcaellachx
Summary: Stiles and Peter go dancing at The Jungle when the rest of the pack want to be lame and watch movies. They've been growing their friendship and flirtation but have never taken it to the next level. Stiles' drag queen friends ask him to sing a number with them. Stiles does that and more, much to Peter's delight.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 18
Kudos: 342





	Bad Romance (I Don't Wanna Be Friends)

**Author's Note:**

> The song Stiles sings is Bad Romance by Halestorm. If you can, have it ready to play when the lyrics are shown, it makes the story that much better. Bad Romance performed by Halestorm, originally by Lady Gaga is not owned by me in any way.
> 
> Link to YouTube video of Bad Romance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8vmhnxVF1GU
> 
> This was all edited by me and after six hours of writing and editing, this is as good as it got. Please be kind.

“Who wants to go shake their groove thang with me?” Stiles said, jumping up from the arm chair he’d been draped over for the past three hours. He usually loved Pack bonding nights at the newly rebuilt Hale house, but after Derek and Scott had droned on about perimeter runs and how nothing new was threatening them, but how they all needed to be on the alert, Stiles was done.

The girls had won the movie pick of the night and there were only so many times a guy could watch Love Actually. He liked the movie, but usually during the Christmas season, not in August.

Nobody answered his call and his lower lip puffed out. Would he be relegated to going alone again? Since he’d come out as bisexual, he’d made numerous trips to Jungle and enjoyed hanging out with his drag queen friends. They kept teasing him about joining them in one of their lip sync or live singing shows, but he’d managed to put them off each time. But he had fun each time he went. Going alone was getting old though.

“Come on, guys, let’s go out and do something!” he tried again.

“I’m too tired,” Scott whined, leaning into Allison further.

“Same,” Derek muttered.

“You guys suck. I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said and headed toward the door after everyone waved to him.

Reaching for the door, a hand touched him on the arm.

“I’d love to go dancing with you, Little Red,” a dark voice whispered close to his ear.

Peter. Stiles couldn’t help the shudder that went through him at that voice. They had been flirting for months now. Never coming close to saying ‘hey, wanna go out?’, but enough to make his tummy flutter and his breath rushing out of him whenever Peter complimented him or teased him. Stiles had made one comment about Peter being the Big Bad Wolf and since he was wearing his red hoodie at the time, Peter started calling him Little Red. He liked it.

“I still swear I’m going to get you a bell, stalker-wolf” he said, turning to stare into those delicious crystal blue eyes.

A sexy smirk grew on Peter’s lips as he noticed Stiles was already lost in his eyes. “How would I get to see you jump and shiver at the sound of my voice?” His deep voice echoed through Stiles and he shivered again.

“Jerkwolf,” he mumbled. He had no good comeback. “You really want to come out dancing with me? I tend to flail and I might end up smacking your pretty face.”

“So you admit I’m pretty huh?” Peter said with a grin. “And I’ve seen you dancing when you thought nobody was looking and you do not flail. Nice try though. Now, I’m going to change and I’ll pick you up at your apartment in thirty minutes. Sound good?”

Stiles had to swallow before responding. He wanted to kiss Peter so bad, especially realizing he saw Stiles when nobody else ever seemed to.

“Sure. Yep. Sounds like a plan. See you in thirty minutes,” Stiles said and threw open the door. He absolutely did not run to his jeep. Nope, not at all.

Once he was in his apartment, alone, he started going through his clothes. Scott, the loser, had moved in with Allison last month so now he was alone. At the same time, he loved the freedom in living alone. He discovered he enjoyed wandering around nude if he wanted. He also liked to sing when he was cooking and cleaning and there was nobody there to judge him.

After a quick shower, he looked through his clean shirts and started humming, then singing, as he picked a maroon long sleeved Henley and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Since he graduated from college and then with the help of the intense training at Quantico, he’d put on solid muscle and he’d gotten compliments from the drag queens and the girls in the pack about how he had nice forearms. Might as well show them off if he was going to be dancing with Peter.

He paired the Henley with slim fit black jeans that he was informed ‘framed his ass like it was the Mona Lisa’. At least that was what Lydia and Danny had told him when they took him shopping. They’d been helping him shop when they heard him talk about needing more t-shirts for his new job with the local FBI office. They’d given him a smack down and took him shopping. He now dressed like a grown up and though he still liked his superhero tees for the weekends, he liked knowing that he looked his best when he went out.

It was wearing one of his new outfits that seemed to catch Peter’s eye and started the low level flirtation between them. He saw the genuine appreciation in Peter’s eyes when he would (purposely) bend over near him. “Nice ass,” was whispered more than once when Peter would find a reason to walk by him. Knowing Peter would be able to scent his desire, he would stare at the wolf until he saw his nostrils flare and his eyes flash bright blue. Then he would give his own smirk and walk away.

The great thing wasn’t just the flirtation, but the fact they genuinely got along. Peter had seen him through his college years and then was always in contact when he was in training at Quantico. As much as he scorned the FBI, Peter was truly supportive and helped him get through long study sessions and helped quiz him before finals. When he’d gotten home, Peter had been there at the Welcome Home party and gave him a big hug and rubbed their cheeks together, scenting him.

Stiles had impressed all of the pack during one of their training sessions when he was able to take down Isaac and Boyd. It wasn’t always about brute strength. Stiles had trained with MMA fighters and a group of guys he was sure were assassins at Quantico. But he learned to fight dirty and make every single move count. He’d managed to pin Derek and Peter, both were laughably shocked, even though they did go on to beat him.

Peter was always right there next to him, researching whenever a baddie came sniffing around the pack. They always came up with the plans and nobody questioned Stiles after Peter started backing up his decisions. Stiles was being taken seriously and it was partially because Peter had told them all to take their heads out of their asses and really listen to Stiles. He wasn’t the kid who left Beacon Hills. He knew what he was talking about, hell, he’d studied and learned how to think strategically. Truthfully, he was the only one trained to know how to fight and the pack admitted they were right and began coming to Stiles for advice. He even had training sessions with Lydia, Allison, and Isaac, who all wanted to up their physical game.

Stiles looked in the mirror and put the finishing touches on his artfully tousled hair and nodded. He would’ve added a splash of his favorite cologne, but he knew wolves preferred someone’s true scent, it was more attractive than any false cologne or perfume.

Slipping into his favorite Converse, which were perfectly broken in for dancing, he grabbed his wallet, phone and keys. His timing was exact and he heard a soft knock at the door. He opened the door and took a deep breath. Wow.

Peter’s hair was gently waved back from his face, his goatee freshly groomed to perfection. He had on his trademark deep V-neck, in black this time, matched with black jeans that framed his everything perfectly.

“Looking good,” he said, slightly breathless.

Peter’s blue eyes twinkled at him, scenting his attraction. “Not bad yourself, Little Red. Ready to, as you put it, shake your groove thang?”

Chuckling, Stiles nodded and shut and locked the door behind him, then followed Peter to his car.

Leave it to Peter to drive a brand new black Lexus. It was all sleek lines and deliciously scented leather interior.

Showing he was more than a flirting friend, Peter asked about Stiles’ latest case, showing he’d been paying attention when Stiles had shared what he could. Unlike most of his friends who just glossed over things. Stiles was certain Scott didn’t have much of an interest not only because of his asshole bio-donor, but also because Stiles’ job was much more interesting than being a veterinarian. Jealousy was more powerful than a True Alpha at times.

Before he knew it, they were at Jungle, and finishing their first drinks before hitting the dance floor. The techno beat was perfect for slow rolling hips and arms undulating in the air. Peter showed he wasn’t too old for dance clubs and expertly drew Stiles close to him, syncing their hips to the beat. One arm was wrapped around Stiles waist, fingers wide in a possessive grip. Peter’s other hand was stroking Stiles’ cheek and down to his bottom lip.

Stiles’ arms were hooked around Peter’s neck, fingers playing in his hairline and down under the collar of Peter’s shirt.

Their eyes were locked, crystal blue and honey brown. Stiles couldn’t help looking down at Peter’s lips, licking his own. With a swoop of excitement and nerves in his stomach, he leaned forward and their lips met in a brief kiss, sticking together just a bit before parting. Stiles didn’t try to play off the shuddering breath he took. That kiss was better than anything he’d ever experienced in and out of bed. He wasn’t alone, he saw, as Peter’s eyes flashed neon before he closed them. It took him a moment to gain control before he opened his eyes and stared into Stiles’ eyes, as if he was trying to find the answer to some unasked question. He must have gotten it because he gave a short nod.

“Drink?” Peter asked.

Stiles noticed the song had ended and the dance floor was emptying. “Sure,” he agreed.

They were both enjoying a drink at a table when they were suddenly surrounded by enough sequins to choke a horse.

“Stiles! Little lamb, you’ve come back to me!” A high pitched voice boomed next to him.

Grinning he looked up at the dark-skinned drag queen standing next to him in a sparkling blue evening gown. “Chaka, you’re looking beautiful as always. How are you, lovely?”

“You’re such a sweetheart, little lamb! Isn’t he sweet, girls?” Chaka flipped her long blonde hair away from her face, giving Stiles a wink.

“Oh yes!” was repeated by the other five queens standing around them.

“Stiles, who are your beautiful friends,” Peter asked, putting on the charm.

“Ladies?” Stiles knew they loved introducing themselves. It was all part of the fun of being a drag queen.

Chaka spun in place before giving Peter a come-hither look. “I am Chaka. Chaka Khanvict.”

The next queen with breasts that were about to spill out of her tiny sailor dress, giggled. “I am Dixie Normous.”

Third in line was a tall lady in all black latex, a black cat mask covering the top half of her face. “I am Allysyn Chains.”

In a lime green dress with bright copper hair falling in her face, the next queen gave a tiny curtsy. “I’m Hedda. Hedda Lettuce.”

Peter finally broke and began laughing so hard he had to push his drink away from himself to avoid spilling it.

“Don’t you forget me, hottie. I am Wilma… Wilma Titzgrow and, sadly, I think we all know the answer to that one,” a charming brunette Latina with a skin tight red dress said, looking mournfully down at her rather flat chest.

Peter gave a tiny nod but kept laughing until tears sparkled in his eyes.

“We did it again, girls,” Hedda said with a giggle.

“Never fails,” Allysyn commented, her dark eyes full of merriment.

“I was right there with you, buddy. They caught me the first time I came here during the, ahem, Jackson escape,” Stiles said, referring to the kanima. “I was completely in the closet and innocent to all their lascivious ways. They surrounded me and had me almost peeing my pants I was laughing so hard.”

“Poor Little Lamb didn’t know if laughing was appropriate or not, his little face turned so red. We had just as good a time as he did,” Chaka said.

“I can imagine,” Peter finally said, swiping at his face and getting himself under control.

“I’m guessing you’re Peter, are you not?” Allysyn Chainz asked.

“I am,” Peter admitted, giving Stiles a probing look. “Have you been talking about me, Little Red?”

Stiles had turned red the moment Allysyn spoke and now just gave a miserable nod, knowing Peter would never let him forget the moment.

Chaka smiled, but gave Peter a pointed look. “He did mention your good looks, but he also spoke of how you have been a true friend to him amongst so many who don’t even see him.”

Peter looked at the queen and then to Stiles. Leaning closer, he took Stiles chin in his hand and pulled. Their lips met in a light, sweet, brush. “You are a true friend to me, too,” he said, sincerity glowing in his blue eyes as he released Stiles.

Stiles blushed again, but with pleasure this time.

“Now,” Wilma broke in, her long green nails tapping against the table top. “We have been trying to get our Little Lamb to do a number with us. Perhaps you can get him to agree to it, si?”

Grinning, Peter dragged his fingers down Stiles’ cheek. “I’d love to see you up there on the stage.”

Stiles looked at the man he was falling for and knew it was time. “Fine. Once.”

The queens began clapping and chattering excitedly as they pulled Stiles from the his chair.

“I’ll be right by the stage waiting,” Peter called, waving at Stiles, who flipped him off. The man had the audacity to laugh at him as he was dragged away.

Once they got backstage, they began discussing what song to perform and who would do what when Stiles put up his hand.

“I already have a plan. It’s time for me to put that man on his knees. Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said and quickly outlined his idea. They easily sorted out the performance and general choreography.

Then it came time to discuss Stiles’ costume. “I don’t want to do full drag, but maybe you have something close to what I’m thinking?” He described how he wanted to look and Hedda jumped, saying she knew just what he was talking about and skittered off to find it.

“Would you be willing to wear heels?” Wilma asked.

“Maybe,” he said. “Show me what you’ve got.”

From then on, it was a flurry of activity, finding the right sizes and trying to match Stiles’ vision. Stiles grinned when Hedda came up to him and showed him what she found. “Perfect,” he said with a wicked grin.

Peter heard the DJ announce that the Jungle Queens would be performing a song with a special guest star and quickly found a place by the stage. Tonight had been perfect so far. The two kisses they’d shared, though only pecks, were better than any make-outs he’d had. His and Stiles’ friendship had grown deeper as the months passed by. He had wanted to deepen it to something more, but wanted it to happen organically. That had happened tonight. Now he was going to see his Little Red perform with the drag queens and while he’d probably tease him for it, he knew he’d treasure the memory for a long time to come.

“With a song by Lady Gaga in the vocal stylings of the band Halestorm, here are the Jungle Queens!” The DJ shouted.

Halestorm. Peter snorted and chuckled, wondering if that was on purpose. Then all thoughts of anything but Stiles left his head. Nothing could have prepared Peter for what happened when the opening chords of the song began.

Electric guitars and heavy drums began pulsing through the dance club. The queens strutted onto the stage already singing. They were much better than he thought they would be, especially with this gritty version of the original.

*

_Want your bad romance_

_Want your bad romance_

_I want your ugly_

_I want your disease_

_I want your everything as long as it’s free_

_I want your love, love, love, love_

_I want your love_

_*_

The queens parted as they sang and Stiles strutted out onto the stage. His boy. Holy shit, that really was him. His boy was in some slinky shimmery red hoodie dress that was somehow lingerie and nearly see through. He had the hood up and it covered him to mid thigh and his pale, bare skin was exposed for several inches. From below his knee to the floor were red high-heeled bitch boots and he was walking around the stage like he’d done it a million times. He looked like he had coal lined around his sparkling honey eyes and his lips were glossy. And how the hell did he not know Stiles could sing? His boy joined in and took over the first chorus singing the lead and his voice was warm and sexy and hard hitting; perfectly on key.

_*_

_I want your love and_

_I want your revenge_

_You and me could write a bad romance_

_I want your love and_

_All your lover’s revenge_

_You and me could write a bad romance_

_*_

Vocalizing as the queens sang the chorus, Stiles took the lead again as they went into the next verse. He gave Peter a grin as he sang the words right to him.

*

_I want your horror_

_I want your design_

_Cuz you’re a criminal_

_As long as you’re mine_

_*_

Peter couldn’t help laughing. Stiles was as sassy as he was sexy and talented. He was hard for him already and every note out of his mouth made it worse. Or better, depending on how you wanted to take it.

*

_I want your psycho_

_Your vertical stick_

_Want you in my rear window_

_Baby you're sick…_

_*_

Peter grinned and shook his head at the line when Stiles gave him a wink. His boy then came to the edge of the stage near Peter and knelt down.

*

_You know that I want you_

_And you know that I need you_

_I want it bad_

_A bad romance_

_*_

He rose as they hit the chorus again and Stiles slinked around the stage in moves Peter never knew he had. Every time he gave a kick of those heeled boots Peter got a glimpse of tiny red panties under the hoodie and his cock twitched, already painfully hard in his jeans.

*

_I want your love and_

_All your love is revenge_

_You and me could write a bad romance_

_*_

Stiles vocalized in a deep throated runs that would make Gaga herself go crazy. Peter got chills and was spellbound as Stiles continued to sing through the chorus.

*

_Caught in a bad romance_

_Want your bad romance_

_*_

Stiles came center stage and a spotlight illuminated him as he lifted the mike and sang, his body curving and swaying to the beat.

*

_I want your love_

_And I want your revenge_

_I want your love_

_I don’t wanna be friends_

_Je veux ton amour_

_Et je veux ta revanche_

_Je veux ton amour_

_*_

The French lines were pronounced perfectly which only served to turn Peter on even more. Stiles met Peter’s eyes as he shook his head and belted the next lines.

*

_I don’t wanna be friends_

_I don’t wanna be friends_

_No, I don’t wanna be friends_

_Want your bad romance_

_Want your bad romance_

_*_

Stiles hood fell off as he threw his head back and forth as he sang and jumped to the beat. His boy was a performer. All those years in the shadows when he belonged in the spotlight.

*

_I want your love and_

_I want your revenge_

_You and me could write a bad romance_

_I want your love and all your lover's revenge_

_You and me could write a bad romance_

_*_

Stiles again vocalized in between the queens singing the final chorus, before joining them for the finale.

*

_Want your bad romance!_

*

The club went ballistic, cheering and whistling for the queens and Stiles. They joined hands and gave a bow.

Chaka moved forward and pointed to Stiles. “Our honorary queen sister, Stiles! Give him a hand!”

If Peter had thought the club went wild before it was nothing to the screaming and stomping that his boy got for his performance. He was right there with them, clapping and whistling with all he had in him. He made sure he had a big smile on his face when Stiles inevitably looked at him. His boy turned a beautiful pink under all the praise and gave a small curtsy and wave.

There was one more group bow and then just before they looked like they were going to walk backstage, Peter gave a sharp whistle, catching Stiles’ attention. He quirked his finger to get Stiles to come to the edge of the stage. Peter lifted his arms and Stiles grinned as he leaned down and let Peter gently ease him to the floor.

As soon as Stiles’ feet hit the ground, Peter’s mouth was on his, a groan of pure want escaping the wolf’s throat.

More cheers went up around them, but it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was getting his mouth and tongue as far into Stiles as he could. He swiped his tongue across those full lips and Stiles gave a whimper and opened to him. Their tongues stroked, battled, and explored as Peter finally gave his hands permission to travel. He gripped Stiles’ pert ass through the thin fabric of his hoodie. They both groaned and Peter ground their cocks together as he pushed Stiles against the stage.

Peter pulled back just enough to mutter, “My house?”

“Uh huh,” Stiles breathed before their mouths met again.

They were still locked at the lip when a throat was cleared next to them a few minutes later. “Um, Little Lamb, here are your things.”

Stiles opened his eyes and separated himself so he could see who was talking to him and expecting him to be able to understand what they were saying. “Huh?”

Peter wanted to smirk at Stiles being a bit lost, but he was right there with him.

Stiles saw Wilma standing there holding a tote bag with his clothes and other belongings. “Oh, thank you, sweetie.”

“You were wonderful tonight. Everyone thought so. We’ll talk more later. You go celebrate with your big bad wolf,” Wilma told him with a wink.

“I think I will,” Stiles told her and took the bag. Turning to Peter, he smiled. “Shall we?”

“Definitely,” Peter said, hunger in his gaze.

They had to stop several times before they finally reached the car. Some of the interruptions were club-goers complimenting Stiles and praising him. Other times it was Peter or Stiles needing to stop and kiss for a moment.

Once they were in the car and on the way to Peter’s house, Stiles groaned as Peter rubbed his hand up his naked thigh under the hooded shift dress.

“Did you, hmm, get the point of the song?” Stiles asked, enjoying Peter’s touch and trying to control his body.

“I think so. You don’t want to be just friends?” Peter hazarded his best guess.

“Right. Not just friends, but more,” Stiles said, braving his way through the words he’d been wanting to say for a while. “But the more can’t be just when we’re alone. I won’t hide it, not from my dad and not from the pack.”

Peter checked his mirror and pulled over, putting the car in park. He turned to Stiles and cupped his jaw. “I would never think to hide what we have from anyone. Especially not the pack.”

Stiles met Peter’s blue eyes. “Even if they disapprove?”

“Would you deny me if your father didn’t approve?” Peter asked.

Stiles frowned. “No. Besides Dad just wants me to be happy. He trusts my judgment.”

“Same with the pack, Stiles. They are family and even if they grumble, they still want us to be happy in the end. Nothing they could say or do would make me deny what we have and what we are building between us,” Peter told him.

“That’s like the least insane thing you’ve ever said,” Stiles said with a chuckle.

Rolling his eyes. “Smartass. I was trying to be sensitive. Pardon me.”

Stiles gave a playful push to Peter’s shoulder. “Kiss me.”

“Always,” Peter said and their lips met softly. Peter let his fingers play in the silky material of the hoodie and gave a groan. “Gotta get to my house.”

Minutes later, they made it to Peter’s house on the edge of town near the Preserve. Stiles had been there several times under the guise of needing research materials when he really just wanted to get closer to his wolf. He was sure Peter didn’t buy his excuses, but it didn’t matter. This time, he was entering as More. Luckily, Peter had a garage he parked in and Stiles didn’t have to flash all the neighbors when he got out of the car in a dress.

After several stops to kiss and grope, Peter finally had Stiles in his bedroom. He stopped Stiles from reaching for his boots. “Let me, darling. I have a small fantasy to indulge.”

Stiles flushed a beautiful pink and nodded his permission.

Peter grabbed the bottom of the shift dress and began pulling it up, slowly revealing pale, muscled thighs. Then he groaned when the tiny red satin panties were bared to his hungry gaze. He then pushed it up past Stiles’ tanned six pack and muscled chest and finally over his head, throwing the material behind him. Stiles stood there in just the panties and boots and Peter groaned.

“Holy fuck, baby, you are.. God, I think I may be speechless for once,” Peter admitted, licking his lips. He leaned in and began laying tiny kisses down Stiles long neck and down onto his collarbone. From there he kissed, nipped, and licked his way down Stiles’ chest. He spent a satisfying minute or two sucking and nipping his small brown nipples, bringing out the most delicious sounds from Stiles. Grunts and gasps that made Peter’s cock twitch and remind him to get on with the program. He continued down to the delightful little red panties that had obviously been made with a man in mind because even hard, Stiles’ cock fit them well. He grabbed the band with his teeth and dragged them down, baring Stiles’ long, leaking cock. Oh yeah, his boy was well made and would be a delight to ride sometime in the future. This first time, though, Stiles would be the one riding. He pulled the panties down further and gave a long lick up Stiles’ cock, lapping at the liquid seeping from the slit. Moaning, he took the essence of his boy down his throat. He was delicious, just like he’d always fantasized. The boots were one long zip each and he pulled them off Stiles well-formed feet, stroking every inch of flesh with his hands and fingers. Then he stood up and stepped back and just took Stiles in. He was tan from the waist up and the fact that he was pale and porcelain around his cock made for a sexy picture.

“Holy shit you are beautiful and so fucking sexy,” Peter rumbled, his wolf coming to the fore. He knew his eyes were glowing, but he kept the shift under control. Quickly stripping himself, he pulled Stiles to the bed.

“Hey, give me a minute now,” Stiles said, looking at Peter’s sexy, well-muscled body. His wolf obviously liked to sunbathe as he was tanned everywhere and that wasn’t a feature of werewolves. Stiles especially appreciated the muscle delineating his eight pack. He wanted to lick him all over one day. His wolf was strength and power and with his glowing blue eyes, he knew he was always going to be safe and wanted.

Within moments of getting in bed and losing themselves in kissing, Peter had found his lube and was introducing his fingers into Stiles’ body, taking away any discomfort with his wolf. Both of them were eager, moaning and grunting against the other’s mouth.

“Now, Peter, now,” Stiles panted when Peter finally had three fingers thrusting into him.

“Yes, now,” Peter agreed. Taking his cock, he lined it up with Stiles’ well lubed ass and slowly began pushing in. “Ah, fuck. So tight and hot,” he muttered.

Stiles was panting loudly as Peter eased his way in. “Holy shit. You and your big ass cock, holy shit.”

“I don’t have a big ass,” Peter sassed with a grunt when he finally came to a rest inside Stiles, his tight channel squeezing his cock in the best way possible.

“Jerkwolf,” Stiles breathed. “Move, dammit.”

“Fine,” Peter acted put upon, but he was just as eager to move. Pulling back, he thrust smoothly back in.

“Move like you mean it, dammit, fuck me already!” Stiles demanded. He didn’t want slow and sweet right now.

“Your wish is my command… this one time,” Peter said with a pained grin.

Finally, he began thrusting deep and hard into Stiles’ welcoming body. Stiles’ answering grunts and curses were music to his ears as they moved in time.

Grabbing Stiles’ ankles, he slowly raised them until they were resting on his shoulders. “Fuck,” he bit out when he was able to thrust even deeper.

“Fuck yes!” Stiles wailed as Peter pounded into him. “There! Right there!” He cried when Peter found his prostate.

Peter could take direction very well when he wanted to. And this time he did. He thrust hard against his boy’s prostate until Stiles let out a strangled scream and came hard, his ass clutching hard onto Peter’s cock.

With a sound close to a howl, he gave several more pushes into that tight hole and came harder than he’d ever thought possible. Knowing his come was going into the body of the man he loved made it even more delicious.

When his body stopped clenching around Peter’s cock, Stiles flopped back onto the pillows still moaning at the feeling of Peter coming inside him. He knew Peter would be able to smell their mingled scent for several days.

Peter finally eased Stiles’ legs down onto the body and gingerly pulled out with a gasp at the sensitivity. Flopping onto the pillow next to his lover, he gave him what he knew was a goofy grin.

Stiles returned the grin, happy that Peter was in the same place he was.

“Stiles Stilinski, singer extraordinaire, my Little Red. I love you,” Peter said, stroking his fingers down Stiles’ cheek. 

Stiles popped his head off the pillow and leaned up on his elbow. “Really? You really love me? Not just in a hot sex, stupid admission kind of way?”

Peter sat up, mirroring Stiles. “Really. I have loved you for a while.”

Stiles grinned, goofy and happy. “I love you, too, my squishy lovey-wolf.”

Shaking his head, Peter chuckled. “I’ll let you get away with that this once.”

“No way,” Stiles laughed. “This is only the beginning.” He quieted for minute. “And it is a beginning, isn’t it?”

Peter nodded. “Indeed it is. Our beginning.”

“Our beginning. I like that,” Stiles said. “Kiss me squishy-wolf.”

With a long-suffering sigh that was totally put on because he actually thought all the nicknames were adorable, Peter leaned down to kiss his singer, his Little Red. His mate.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. I'd love to make this a series, let me know if you'd like to read more. Hoping this brought you a smile and a moment away from any insanity in your lives. Hugs to you all!


End file.
